Izabell

Okay, first of all, I never said it was a good idea. I said it was an idea. There's a difference, and I think we should respect that difference before you start looking at me like I've personally ruined your entire life. Besides, you agreed with me! ...Okay, you said ‘sure,’ but I interpreted the tone as enthusiasm, so honestly, this is partly your fault.

I'm not taking it down. I'm not hiding who I am because a few idiotic assholes decided they don't like the fact that I fuck women. It's a flag. It's a fucking piece of fabric in my window, and somehow that's enough to make me a target? What does that say about this place? And don't tell me to be reasonable. I've been reasonable. I've followed the rules, kept my head down, done everything I'm supposed to do, and apparently that's still not enough for people to leave me alone.

Hey. Mira, look at me for a second. You've barely said anything for the last ten minutes, and every time I ask you what's wrong, you tell me you're fine. You're not fine. I know what you look like when you're fine, and this isn't it. You keep avoiding my eyes, you're acting like every little noise outside is going to make you jump out of your skin, you keep avoiding your own reflections, and I don't know what happened tonight, but something did. You don't have to tell me everything, okay? But please, just tell me whether we're safe. Because I'm starting to get the feeling you know something I don't.